


get it (just right)

by breathtaken



Series: yes, and [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series) RPF
Genre: Collars, Hand Jobs, Multi, Non-Monogamy, Semi-Public Sex, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 11:57:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19790401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathtaken/pseuds/breathtaken
Summary: It isn’t fair of him to want as much as he does, but a couple times lately, he’s gotten it anyway.





	get it (just right)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [hedonism](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19005751) by [gadzoots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gadzoots/pseuds/gadzoots). 



> Inspired by the wonderful [hedonism](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19005751) by [gadzoots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gadzoots/pseuds/gadzoots), which got into my brain and wouldn't let me go; this is my take on what may have happened next. You'll need to read their fic first for this to make sense.
> 
> Please do not mention (the existence of) this fic publicly outside of AO3.

****Liam... _sort of_ surfaces during dinner. It helps that nobody’s demanding anything of him, the low clatter of silverware on plates and the others’ voices around him keeping him present in the room and the act of eating keeping him present in his body, though he’d be hard-pressed to follow any of the conversation that ebbs and flows around him. 

He feels the collar’s gentle, steady pressure against his Adam’s apple every time he swallows.

When he looks up, Matt is watching him from the far armchair – checking in, and Liam nods quickly and drops his eyes as the weight of that gentle, assessing gaze suddenly has him on a high wire, the part of his mind that isn’t floating insists he can’t interrupt their dinner for this but he’s feeling the distance between him and Matt like a _chasm_ – 

Then there’s a hand on the back of his neck. Sam’s hand, he realises, thumb and index finger smoothing firmly along the muscles of his neck. Soothing him, grounding him.

 _Sam always knows,_ he thinks, and it settles him enough that he manages to finish his food.

Travis’ hand has been on his thigh for at least the last half a minute, a warm, steady pressure as his fingers play along the seam of Liam’s jeans – and Marisha has barely taken Liam’s plate when that hand pushes beneath his knees and pulls his legs over Travis’ so Liam’s half in his lap, one hand curving around the juncture between his hip and his ass, hooking the index finger of his other hand beneath the leather of the collar.

Liam immediately bares his neck, eyelids fluttering a little as he imagines Travis’ whole hand wrapping around his throat.

“Hey. I’m gonna help wash up.” Behind him Sam is getting up from the couch, one hand on Liam’s shoulder; when he bends down to kiss his forehead Liam forgets himself for a moment and tries to chase his lips – which, he and Sam _don’t do that,_ and in the back of his mind he knows he’s going to beat himself up for it later, but right now everything’s rapidly going fuzzy around the edges again and as he strains against Travis’ hold a whine catches in his throat, high and needy.

Sam’s smile is knowing as the backs of his fingers brush against Liam’s cheek – and then he’s gone.

He’s barely had time to process when Travis is reeling him in, bending his head to suckle on Liam’s earlobe, grazing it with his teeth. “Time for dessert, babe,” he rumbles, and Liam only realises Travis isn’t talking to him when the couch shifts behind him again, and small cool hands – Laura’s hands – start unpicking his fingers from Travis’ thighs and gathering them in hers, bringing them to the small of his back and gripping his wrists, half way between a restraint and a caress. 

“Hey, twin,” she says in his other ear, but he’s too far gone for words to be effortless and just drops his head back and rolls it along her shoulder, nuzzling into her neck and inhaling the faintly spicy scent of her mostly-faded perfume, pressing sloppy open-mouthed kisses against her skin.

Travis’ hands are wandering over his torso, brushing over his nipples through the thin fabric of his T-shirt and making him moan into Laura’s neck, face hidden behind the curtain of her hair. He’s being mapped out, up and down his thighs and lingering at the swell of his belly, pushing warm beneath his T-shirt. When fingers tickle his sides he squirms between them, trying to twist away, but they’re ready for it and they give him nowhere to go.

“Nuh uh uh. You just take it, baby,” Laura coaxes, her thumbs pressing against the pulse points in Liam’s wrists, and if he weren’t so strung out he’d be imagining the way Travis and Laura are looking at each other right now, as they share him between them like a favourite toy. “You’re exactly where we want you.” 

“ _Mmph,_ ” he protests, pulling against her grasp until her hold on him tightens, wriggling his hips beneath Travis’ hands until he says, “Woah there, dude,” and Laura says, “A little help here, Matt?”

_Matt._

Liam looks over, blinking his eyes open to see Matt, rising from his chair opposite like he would have just stayed there and watched all night if he hadn’t been invited in.

He squats down in front of the catch, reaches up and hooks a finger through the ring on Liam’s collar, tugging it just enough, and Liam _keens_ as Matt’s other hand finds one of his behind his back.

This is – _this –_

“Hey, buddy,” he whispers, fingers splaying over Liam’s neck, and Liam closes his eyes again and sinks into the feeling, whispering back, “Hey,” as a ridiculous dopey smile spreads over his face.

It isn’t fair of him to want as much as he does, but a couple times lately, he’s gotten it anyway.

He yanks impatiently on Matt’s hand, pulling him in until he gets up and sits behind Liam on the couch, almost on top of Laura as they pull him back against their chests, their joined hands resting over his heart.

Then Travis starts to unbutton his jeans; and Liam hadn’t even noticed he was hard before now but that first pressure has him immediately gasping and arching like a cat, nuzzling into Matt’s neck as if he could burrow beneath his skin and become a part of him. 

Then everything happens at once: Travis is pulling his dick out of his boxers and giving it a stroke that makes all his breath leave his body; Laura’s biting his neck and Matt is pressing a tender kiss to his forehead that’s so at odds with everything else it makes tears well in Liam’s eyes; and in this moment, maybe he isn’t too much. Maybe he’s just right.

It’s sweet, and simple: Travis jerks him off so sure and slow, and the three of them hold him in place as he writhes and squirms and whines, keeping his body pinned as his mind soars.

There are no more thoughts after that, only white heat.

He eventually becomes aware that Travis is cleaning him up, tucking his dick away and re-buttoning his jeans with a gentleness that his heart feels already too full to hold; he’s beautiful, of course, with his wide dark eyes and flushed cheeks, looking over Liam’s shoulder and asking, “Can we –” 

“Yeah, bedroom’s all yours,” Matt replies, “I’ve got him,” and Liam follows the tug at his collar and curls himself fully into Matt’s body as Travis and Laura get up, tucking his nose against Matt’s collar and breathing in. He smells like Tide and comfort, his fingers gentle against the leather, and how did Liam ever get to be this lucky?

“How’s he doing?”

He doesn’t know how long it’s been when he hears Sam, voice coming from the kitchen door, and Liam squirms as he remembers _I tried to kiss him_ and hides his face against Matt’s neck, Matt’s arms tightening around him and a hand coming up to stroke his hair, as if he knows exactly what Liam needs.

“He’s good,” Matt replies, Liam feeling the vibrations in his chest. “He’s pretty far down.”

“Yeah. I see it.”

Sam sits down on his other side, in the place Travis vacated, and Liam holds himself very still and waits for Sam to reach for his shoulder before he turns into him, all uncoordinated limbs.

And Sam – 

Sam stops him half way, holds him in place by his collar, and kisses him.

It’s just a brief, light press of lips on his, nothing sexual, nothing they haven’t done before for fun – but _what,_ Sam doesn’t kiss him when he’s like this, and Liam doesn’t know how to parse it, can’t _think_ –

“Shh.” Sam taps him twice on the temple, because Sam never misses a trick, and pulls him against his chest. “No thinking. That’s an order.” 

Liam hums in relief and tucks his face just above the collar of Sam’s button-down, smelling wine and cologne and familiarity, and lets himself drift for a while to the sounds of the others moving around, conversation picking up again, the glug of more wine being poured.

He’ll have to come back soon, he knows that all too well, even though the idea of it kind of still makes him want to throw a tantrum.

As if on cue, Matt leans in. “Liam. Are you with us, buddy?”

“ _No,_ ” Liam grumbles, feeling Sam’s answering snicker as much as hearing it, but the sounds of normality around him are slowly pulling him up from the depths, and he’s starting to accept that before the night is over he’ll have to be a person again.

Matt’s laughter is soft and fond, and Liam wonders if he knows that Liam would do _anything_ for him.

Sam says, “If you come back, I won’t eat your dessert,” and Liam huffs dramatically and pokes him in the ribs, thinking, _love you, love you._

“Soon,” he concedes, fingers tightening in the fabric of Sam’s shirt, half-wanting to purr in contentment as fingers continue to card through his hair, thinking in snatches, _yeah, this, here, right now._

Soon.

But first, just a little more.


End file.
